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EBBA 22238

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
THE
Infernal Post of Paris:
OR,
A Dialogue between Charnock 's Ghost and King Lewis ,
in his Royal Bed-chamber, concerning the Plot: Concluding with
a horrid Fright upon Lewis , when Lucifer was about to take him at
his word. To the Tune of, The Jealous Lover .

ROuse Lucifer , let us prepare
To mount the Regions of the Air,
That unto Lewis [I] may go,
And let him our Misfortunes know.

I come, I come, quoth Lucifer ,
Your never-failing Servant, Sir,
Mount on my back, Charnock , for I
More swift then any Lark will fly.

Over the Ocean Seas they flew,
And when old Lewis they came too,
They found him lying broad awake,
And strait the Room began to shake.

Lewis a dreadful noise he heard,
At length a rugged Bear appear'd
With flaming Eyes and Hide cole black,
And Charnock riding on his back.

His Blood besprinkled all the Room,
Their Breath brought forth a strong Perfume,
Which did like burning Brimstone smell:
Quoth Lewis , Are you come from Hell?

What is your Message, let me know?
Charnock reply'd, My Overthrow
With many others you have wrought,
Who are to sad Destruction brought.

My Royal Heart you fill with fear,
Stand back and don't approach so near,
So sure as I am in this place,
Before I never see your face.

Then Charnock with a dreadful tone,
Cry'd out, What will you quite disown
Your well-beloved trusty Friend,
Whom you did to Great Britain send,

With Orders to prepare the way,
Saying, If we that Prince would slay,
That you would large Rewards allow,
Charnock 's my Name, d'you know me now?

I must confess I know the name,
But tell me who was most to blame,
You that contriv'd to kill that King,
Or I that yielded to the thing.

Charnock with gnashing Teeth reply'd,
You know I am well satisfy'd
That you yourself contriv'd it first,
We were but Persons put in trust.

Lewis he frowning answer'd strait,
Why do you charge me at this rate?
Tho' from the World the truth be hid,
The Devil take me if I did.

The Devil hearing what he said,
Upon his Arm a Paw he laid,
With which he did be-gripe him sore,
And made him like a Lyon rore.

Sweet Mr. Devil, pardon me,
I spoke but unadvisedly,
What e're I said was but in jest,
As here I solemly protest.

Charnock reply'd, Let him alone,
You know at last he'll be your own,
And therefore let him longer stay;
Old Nick did Charnock 's Voice obey.

With that the Fiends did disappear,
But Lewis lay and sweat with fear,
Until at length his Gu[a]rds came in,
To whom he told what he had seen.


London : Printed for M. Pelcomb , at the sign of the Artechoke in Old-bedlam .

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